


Mother Hera, Sweet Sabine

by MrRhapsodist



Series: Sweet Domestic Star Wars Saga [9]
Category: Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: Bed-Wetting, Diapers, Domestic Fluff, Dreams and Nightmares, Female Friendship, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Infantilism, Mandalorian Culture (Star Wars), Motherhood, Pregnancy, Single Parents, Twi'leks (Star Wars)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-26
Updated: 2020-12-26
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:55:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28331229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrRhapsodist/pseuds/MrRhapsodist
Summary: Hera is pregnant, cranky, and a little depressed with Kanan and Ezra gone. But Sabine's having problems of her own, and those maternal instincts spring into action. But not in the way Sabine was hoping, of course...
Relationships: Hera Syndulla & Sabine Wren, Kanan Jarrus/Hera Syndulla
Series: Sweet Domestic Star Wars Saga [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1942525
Comments: 5
Kudos: 21





	Mother Hera, Sweet Sabine

Groaning, Hera Syndulla staggered out of the refresher. She wiped off her mouth, cursing in two different languages this whole nonsense. Three months since they freed Lothal, and she had morning sickness. Her, the _Ghost’_ s captain and a General for the Rebel Alliance. Hera had made more stomach-churning turns with her eyes closed and turbolasers firing all around her ship, but one little bun in the oven had her dry heaving in the dead of night.

She found her way to the cockpit, dressed in a flight suit and slippers. Sitting in her old pilot’s chair, Hera sighed and rubbed at her face. She kept looking over at the empty seat beside her. Waiting to see him again. Hear him quip about the latest mission, or ask how she was doing.

But he wasn’t there. Kanan was gone. No amount of wishing or praying to the Force would bring him back.

“Doesn’t mean you won’t be remembered,” Hera muttered. She rested a palm on top of her belly.

A warble from behind made her jump in her seat. She spun around, glaring through bleary eyes at an ancient orange astromech droid wheeling his way into the cockpit, manipulators swinging around from either side of his head.

“Chopper!” Hera frowned. “Do you have _any_ idea what time it is?”

C1-10P—or Chopper, which everyone preferred to call him—let out a wave of digital grumbling.

“No, it is _not_ a reasonable hour. And why all this jumping around the ship?” Hera’s eyes narrowed. “What did Zeb do now?”

Chopper backpedaled, waving his arms about as he let out another warble.

“Not Zeb? But then—”

More warbling.

“Oh.” Hera blinked. “Well, if Sabine needs help, then she could have asked. But why are you running around so late for her?”

Chopper’s dome swiveled. His photoreceptors angled downward. If droids could blush, Hera was certain he’d do so.

When the droid finally broke down and told her, Hera was speechless. She didn’t bother demanding an explanation. Instead, she rose from her chair and marched down the corridor to the crew quarters.

She knew exactly which door to knock on first.

* * *

Sabine Wren didn’t want to admit defeat.

Still, sitting with her knees hugged into her chest, staring at the wet bedsheets tossed to the corner of her room, she knew better. She expected Chopper would show up once he got her comm signal--a discreet beep, outside the ship’s intercom system--and they go through their now-usual routine. He’d return with clean sheets, deposit the old ones in the ship’s washing machine, and no one would be the wiser. But even as Sabine prepared herself for the act of quickly fixing her bunk, she couldn’t help but feel lost.

She could almost see her mother’s cold face staring at a similar mess she’d made back at their home on Krownest. Ursa Wren was pragmatic, ever since serving in the Siege of Mandalore. When Sabine had come to her with tears in her eyes, the Mandalorian countess had merely sighed and ordered a droid to handle the issue. It was only later, over a cup of hot cocoa, that her father had come and comforted her. Sabine had vowed to never be so helpless in front of her mother again.

The door slid open, and Sabine lifted her head. She tugged down the hem of her shirt and cleared her throat. “Thanks, Chop, I can—”

Her throat caught when she saw the silhouette in the doorway.

“Sabine?” Hera’s voice floated across the distance. It might as well have been from across the Outer Rim. “Is everything all right, sweetie?”

“It’s nothing,” Sabine lied. “Nothing I can’t handle. Just an accident, that’s—”

“That’s not it, is it?” Hera didn’t wait for a response. She had already crossed into the room, letting Chopper hurry in and grab the sheets off the floor. Without asking, she took a seat on the bed beside Sabine, who tried to shift away. “I’m here to talk if you need to get something off your chest.”

Sabine let out a huff. “I don’t see how that’s any of your business, Hera.”

“You’re on my crew. You’re my business, like it or not.” Hera fixed her with a stern look. “Right?”

“Right.” Sabine shrugged. Try as she might, she couldn’t meet the Twi’lek’s eyes. They were soft and warm, and everything that Sabine didn’t need right then. “But it’s _my_ mess. I’ll handle it. One less thing for the captain of the _Ghost_ to worry about.”

“I can worry about you and still be captain.” Hera lifted a hand, moving it for Sabine’s shoulder. For once, it didn’t have _beskar_ armor plating on it. But her hand froze in midair, and she pulled it back when Sabine didn’t lean into the touch.

Sabine sighed. “You’re not going to let this go, are you?”

“Not so long as we’re friends, Sabine.”

 _More like family,_ Sabine thought, but she’d never say it out loud. Her hands tightened around her legs, pulling them harder into her chest. The memory of Ursa Wren’s cold expression flashed across her mind with the power of a blaster bolt.

“I have nightmares,” she admitted. “Flashbacks of Lothal. The battle. The raid on the Imperial base, the counterassault, and...” Shifting on her bunk, Sabine closed her eyes. “Everything else.”

Three months later, and she still had trouble saying his name. How hard could it be? He was Ezra Bridger, and if not for him and Kanan, Lothal wouldn’t have been free. But even trying left a cold lump in Sabine’s gut that made it impossible to go further.

“And that’s why you’re having accidents?” Hera’s voice was as warm as a hug. She scooted closer to Sabine on the bunk. “You know you can ask for help. Doesn’t matter how old you are.”

“It’s not how it’s done.”

“What isn’t?”

“This!” Sabine gestured at the bare bunk and the empty corner where her sheets had been tossed minutes earlier. “It’s not our way to sit and cry whenever things go wrong! Don’t you get it? We’re Mandalorians. Ours is the way of glorious struggle, the _Akaanati’kar’oya._ A few bad dreams and a wet bed isn’t something to transmit to the whole ship, Hera! I couldn’t—”

“Hey, shh.” Hera put a finger to Sabine’s lips. She stared the Twi’lek in the eye, amazed at how calm she remained.

When she spoke again, Hera’s voice was soft. “You know, back on Ryloth, I had accidents, too. My mother was there for me. She’d help me clean up, and she’d sing until I could fall asleep again. It was a big house we had on Ryloth, so no one else needed to know. My mother once told me it was our way to ride out the storm, not try and defeat it.” Her green eyes sparkled in the dark room. “Of course, try telling my _father_ that...”

Sabine chuckled. “He’s quite a bold one, I’ll give him that.”

“And so are you.” Hera smiled. “Now, come on. Let me help you. No one else has to know.”

“Fine.” Shifting her legs around, Sabine tugged down her shirt to cover up her sleep shorts. “But if Zeb hears a word of this, so help me...”

“He won’t, I swear!” Hera laughed and patted the bunk. “Come on. Let’s get started.”

* * *

Two nights later, Hera paused outside the door to Sabine’s quarters.

She’d enjoyed a tour of Lothal City with Chopper and Zeb. And, while Zeb was examining one of the fruit vendor stalls, Hera had stopped to make a discreet purchase. She returned to the _Ghost_ with a satchel tucked under one arm, unwilling to discuss the matter with anyone. Not until she’d gone to the refresher for the seventh time that day, wishing her nausea and bloating would ease up. It wouldn’t, of course, but Hera was nothing if not an optimist.

When she knocked on the door, Hera was surprised to find it sliding open already. She jumped back, staring down at a nervous Sabine, already dressed for bed. Her dark violet hair was a tangled mess, and she looked almost adorable as she rubbed at her eyes.

“Hey, Hera.” Sabine fought back a yawn. “Anything I can help you with?”

Hera smiled. “Nope. Actually, I brought something to help _you._ ”

“Really?”

“Sure. But let’s talk inside.”

As Sabine sat down on her bed, Hera closed the door behind her. She unzipped her satchel, removed the package inside, and set it down on the bunk. Sabine’s eyes went wide, and the Twi’lek lifted her hands in the air.

“Okay,” she interrupted, “now before you say anything—”

“Hera!”

“Sabine, please? Just consider it? That’s all I’m asking.”

“Hera, I’m not a baby. I don’t need diap—”

“So what if they are?” Hera’s eyes narrowed. “Hmm? So what? You think I’d see you as anything less, Sabine?”

Sabine’s head dropped. Her fingers wriggled against the top of her thighs.

“No,” she answered in a small voice. “No, I know you wouldn’t.”

“Okay, then.” Hera leaned forward. “I realize this is embarrassing, but after last night, we need a solution. Our washing machine could use a break, and this will help you sleep, if nothing else.”

“Fine!” Sabine frowned. “But I am _not_ letting you put one on me.”

“You sure about that?” Hera reached out, ignoring Sabine’s flinch as she smoothed out some of the tangles in her hair. She traced a finger down to Sabine’s chin, lifting it up to look her in the eye. “Because I don’t know if you realize this, but I’m about to have a baby and I need practice. So, in between your usual duties on this ship, you, Sabine, are going to help me with that.”

The young woman’s face dropped. “Oh, please tell me you’re kidding!”

Hera didn’t break eye contact. “I’m not.”

She knew it wasn’t exactly fair, but Sabine’s pouting wasn’t going to stop her. Amid the protests, Hera had flipped the young woman onto her back and began removing her sleep shorts. It would have been comical, watching a Twi’lek and a Mandalorian slap each other’s hands in a tug of war over clothing, but the shorts were coming off. Hera held back on a wisecrack about Sabine having a cute bottom when the shorts finally came free.

As Sabine crossed her arms, red-faced and staring at the ceiling, Hera removed a diaper from the package. She unfolded it, trying to picture the child she and Kanan were going to have. A sweet young boy or girl, mixing their best features—or so she hoped.

“Could we please hurry this up?” Sabine begged. “I’m getting a bit chilly down here.”

“My, what a fussy little thing you are.” Hera clucked her tongue. “We’ll get you nice and warm in no time, I promise.”

“Are you really going to treat me like a baby?”

“Only if you keep acting like one.”

“Hera, I’m not—!”

Whatever else Sabine had been about to say, it stopped the moment Hera put a finger to her lips. It was an old move, one she’d learned from her mother when she’d been about to cry over a spilled glass of juice or not getting to play outside. Combined with a mother’s steely gaze, it worked wonders on children of numerous species, provided they had mouths and lips.

Hera wasted no time unfolding the diaper and sliding it under Sabine. She smiled at the teenager, who huffed and looked away. Getting it taped into place around her hips wasn’t too difficult. The real fight had been getting her to stay undressed and cooperative on the bed.

She knew with a real infant, it’d be a little more involved. A lesson for down the line.

“There.” Reaching down, Hera patted the bottom of the diaper and rubbed it a little. “You’re good to go.”

“I don’t need this.” Sabine looked to the nearest wall, her voice cracking a little. “I _don’t..._ ”

“Then why am I not convinced?” Hera leaned over her. “You’re stressed. You’re hurting. And we know what Kanan taught you about holding things in when you two were saber training.”

“I remember.” Sabine’s voice had gone small and soft, the same as when she’d returned to Chopper Base with Kanan, Ezra, and Fenn Rau. Whatever she’d confessed to Kanan that evening, it had broken loose something inside of her. Hera knew that small voice of pain, and she wanted to hug it with all her might.

Even without her armor, Sabine could still wear a mask stronger than anyone else saw.

Hera bent down. She knew this was crossing a line. She didn’t care. As Sabine tried to get up, Hera took her by the chin and planted a kiss on her forehead. Not a long one. A short kiss that left Sabine wide-eyed and sputtering, as if she couldn’t be more adorable wearing a diaper. It triggered something deep inside Hera, seeing her so small and helpless. There was no choice. She slipped her arms around the young woman and cradled her into her chest.

“Shh, shh.” Hera stroked at Sabine’s hair. “It’s okay. I’ve got you now, sweetheart. I’m here...”

“H-Hera...” A choked sob worked its way out of Sabine’s voice. “I’m not...”

She clung to the Twi’lek, soaking her face into the lining of Hera’s flight suit. But Hera didn’t mind. She took the small, crinkling girl into her lap, rocking her back and forth as she shushed her again and smiled.

Kissing her on the head again, Hera leaned back into the wall. She rested her head against the steel plating, not minding the slight pinch to her lekku. Sabine didn’t resist the move. She was too busy nuzzling into Hera’s chest, equally upset about any number of things. The fact that she wore a loud, crinkling diaper didn’t help much. Hera patted her bottom, imagining the same move for her own little one when they were born.

Of course, she realized, Sabine _was_ a child to her. She and Kanan had practically adopted her and Ezra when they came aboard the _Ghost._ No one had ever said it aloud. But no one had to either.

“My sweet girl,” Hera cooed into Sabine’s ear. Brushing aside some hair, she cradled the poor thing against her breast and nuzzled her cheek. “We’ll get through this. We always do, honey.”

Sabine could only nod and let out a tiny whimper. It broke Hera’s heart, and she kissed her on the head a third time. Cradling Sabine, she rocked her until she fell asleep, listening for the soft, sharply-drawn breath.

As soon as it came, Hera lowered her girl onto the bed, pulling the covers around her and tucking her in. She caressed the side of Sabine’s eyes, enjoying the sight of her not in the heat of battle. Her lips parted, and if Hera had thought to bring a pacifier, she’d have put it right in the girl’s mouth.

“I love you, Sabine.” Hera bent down for one last kiss, this time on the cheek. “Sweet dreams.”

Moments later, they were snuggled together under the sheets, enjoying a long-overdue rest.

**Author's Note:**

> Here's a little late gift for the holidays! Whether you keep Christmas or a different celebration this time of the year, enjoy some domestic fluff from one of the best space moms in all of _Star Wars._


End file.
